‘Dominique and I will take it. She wants to see all the regional heads,’ Philomene said sympathetically. ‘Go and have a quick shower. The water and the electricity went off earlier. I wouldn’t be surprised if it goes again,’ her friend advised. ‘I have lamb casserole for dinner, so go wash up, the two of you, and we’ll have it when you’re ready.’

An hour later, sitting in the light of a paraffin lamp – the electricity had indeed gone off – they watched lightning zig-zag on the horizon. The lamb was melt-in-the-mouth delicious, and Brigid sopped up the gravy with a piece of bread, wishing the feeling of apprehension that had enveloped her would evaporate. Why was Perpetua flying in from Paris? Visits from the hierarchy in the Mother House didn’t happen that often, but they always spelled change.

Was it time for her to be moved to another convent in another part of Africa, she wondered distractedly. She loved Senegal and the warm, friendly people she worked with. But a new challenge might be a good thing. She had so much experience setting up and operating the mother-and-child clinics. Brigid prayed silently that her wings would not be clipped, nor her ‘freedom’ curtailed.

*

‘You want me to go back to Ireland?’ Brigid couldn’t hide her shock as she sat in front of her Superior in the airy, white-painted office in the convent in St Louis.

‘As Reverend Mother,’ Mère Perpetua reminded her in her soft, whispery voice. ‘You will spend some time in Paris with us, preparing for your promotion—’

‘But, Mère, I’m needed here. I’ve set up a dozen clinics, I love working here.’

Mère Perpetua held up a hand and Brigid fell silent.

‘That is part of the reason you have been recalled. Strong attachment to place and job is strongly discouraged in the Order. You know that. You know also that pride in our accomplishments nullifies them in the sight of God.’

‘But my nursing training, Mère. I’ve been able to help so many mothers and babies,’ Brigid protested heatedly, raging that she’d been accused of the sin of pride.

‘Indeed, but you have also been able to train the Sisters in Senegal to take over the work, and you’ve trained them well. It is wonderful, is it not, to have been able to do that?’ the Reverend Mother said sweetly.

‘Yes, Mère,’ Brigid said heavily. It was true; part of her remit had been to work with indigenous nuns so that they could take over and, as she’d thought erroneously, free her to set up new mother-and-child clinics elsewhere on the Missions. That, Brigid had truly believed, had been her path in life, and she’d loved the work.